


Constellation Prize

by floorcoaster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29370096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floorcoaster/pseuds/floorcoaster
Summary: The moment he realized he loved her threw his world inside out.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 13
Kudos: 157
Collections: Dramione Valentine Exchange





	Constellation Prize

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiwi05622](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwi05622/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneValentineExchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneValentineExchange) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Moment I knew I loved you  
> 

DVE #4 – Prompt: Moment I knew I loved you

He froze, something inside him roaring to life. A hundred thousand nerve endings fired at once, and it was so strong, so momentous, he wasn't sure where—or even who—he was for a few seconds.

Then, sounds slowly began filtering through his brain again.

He heard the clink of ceramic plates and cups. The clatter of silverware. The espresso machine whirring to life. Milk being whipped to a froth.

Then came the sounds of the people around him. Low chatter. An occasional laugh. A chair scraping across the floor as someone stood.

He even noticed sounds coming from outside the cafe. People walking and talking. Carts rolling up the alley. Customers examining merchandise spilling out of shops.

And, finally, the sound that had started it all pierced through the thick cloud of panic enveloping him: a spoon slowly making its way around the interior of a mug, the cheap metal grazing the wall as it passed.

Then it happened again. The spoon came to a gradual stop, pausing in its circuit.

Draco nearly bolted.

His heart was pounding, and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears.

"Draco?"

He was still staring at the spoon. He watched it lift completely out of the cup before being set aside. A hand reached across the table, and his attention switched from the spoon to it. It was one of his favorite hands in the world, strong and gentle, with fingertips often spotted with ink she couldn't quite wash off. She rarely bothered to use magic to remove the smudges.

"Are you alright?"

As he kicked his gaze to meet hers, his heart started racing even more furiously. He saw surprise and a hint of concern in her eyes. She brought her hand back towards her and picked up the mug, wrapping her fingers around it in an effort to borrow the warmth. Steam drifted lazily upward, tendrils of it curling in disappearing swirls.

She was waiting for a response.

"Erm." Words stuck to the inside of his mouth. Not that he knew what to say. Or think. If it wasn't an involuntary function, he'd probably forget to breathe. He needed to assuage her curiosity and get to somewhere he could properly think—somewhere away from her and the full weight of her presence.

Draco cleared his throat, taking a sip of his tea—black, two lumps of sugar. "I'm fine." He forced a smile and raised his cup. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Why, indeed.

She eyed him uncertainly for another few seconds, then set down her tea with a sigh. "Well, it's about time to go. You know how Martindale loses his mind if we're late."

"Right." Draco swallowed hard and nodded. He did know; she'd told him many times since the beginning of their friendship almost two years prior. "I'm... I think I'll just... finish my tea. I forgot an errand I need to run before I head to work."

A warm smile greeted him when he looked at her, afraid of what he'd find, afraid that she had somehow figured out what had happened and was preparing, even now, to get away. To run. To leave him far, far behind where he belonged. Surely she would run.

i _He_ /iwas feeling a terribly strong desire to run.

But she didn't give any indication that she'd guessed what was causing his strange behavior. And if he knew it was strange, she had to as well. She knew him almost better than he knew himself.

While she gathered her things and put on her warm coat, he stood, awkwardly inhabiting space near her. Tugging on her gloves, she looked at him again. "You sure everything's alright?"

No, everything was most certainly not bloody all right, but he smiled through the panic. "I'm fine."

Whether or not she believed him, she chose not to press him further. "Right, then. I'll see you later, shall I? Are we still due for dinner with Pansy and Theo and whoever else?"

He nodded mechanically. "Yes. Dinner. At Theo's."

"I wonder what big announcement he has for us. I hope he's met someone." Her eyes sparkled with delight.

"Theo? He'll never settle down." The very idea was almost laughable.

"Ah, never say never. It seems that way, perhaps, but all it takes is the right person, and suddenly someone starts behaving in ways you never thought possible, and you wonder if you ever really knew them to begin with." She smiled knowingly, and he felt a rush of heat.

Panic. It was definitely welling inside of him.

But Theo. He should focus on Theo. There, that helped a bit; he could feel his fingertips again.

"Well, we'll find out tonight, I suppose."

"Yes." She swung her bag onto her shoulder and stepped closer, making his heart pound all over again. "Have a good day, Draco. I'll miss you."

Then she kissed him. Tipped up forward on her toes, pressed her lips to his, lightly teasing his lips with her tongue.

He growled softly as every single, solitary thought blinked out of his mind. Kissing Hermione Granger was absolutely, hands-down the best part of being Draco Malfoy, and even though they were in the middle of a cafe, where anybody could see them, where whispers would travel like wildfire, he didn't care. He never wanted to stop.

But, as was life, apparently, they couldn't go on forever. Soon she was squeezing his hand, smiling with blinding beauty and flushed cheeks, and walking out the door.

Taking his heart with her, apparently.

With her went the light, and the reality he'd encountered only minutes before came slamming back into his chest like a raging Hippogriff. He sat down heavily, seriously considering spiking his tea even though it was only eight in the morning.

He went back and forth in his head about the wisdom of such a dramatic move, and slowly finished his croissant and sipped on his tea.

A few minutes later, an old woman came up to him and set down a few coins, giving him a toothless smile. "It's nice to see young love. Keep that spark going strong, and you'll be a happy old man someday." She winked and walked away.

Draco waited until she'd excited the cafe, then dropped his head on the table. Merlin, what a day— _already._

He tried to discern if he felt different. He ran through a check of his body and determined that everything _physically_ felt the same. He couldn't detect any differences from before, yet he kept having unexpected flurries of nerves in his gut. It was the only physical manifestation he could catalog.

At least, if he could ignore his racing heart, his shallow breathing, and the overwhelming desire to go to her workplace and confess everything.

He shook his head and sighed. This didn't make any sense. He'd been dating Hermione for almost exactly one month, and they'd been out quite a few times, had lots of really fascinating conversations, precisely seventeen fabulous make-outs—he was definitely keeping track. But it was all just in fun. It was rather early in the relationship, and he'd just started settling in for a few months of nothing but joy and, hopefully, lots of sex. They hadn't crossed that threshold yet for various reasons, but he was hopeful that they were on the cusp of it. He was very much looking forward to taking their physical relationship further. Much further. As far as she would let him go. Because everything they'd done so far was the best he'd ever experienced, and something told him it would only get better and better.

But then... he hadn't been expecting... _this_.

He closed his eyes and groaned, pulling at his hair as though that would make things different. All it did was hurt.

What he needed to do was identify exactly what had happened. Then he could analyze it and determine if it was real or not. Yes. Clear, logical, scientific inquiry was what was needed right now.

They'd taken to meeting at this cafe in the mornings. It was between the Ministry, where she worked, and Malfoy Inc., where he worked. They ordered breakfast and read the paper and discussed things, lingering until the last possible moment.

Today was no different. She'd arrived first and was already at their favorite table when he walked through the door. He'd ordered and sat down, grateful for warm beverages on cold mornings. They talked as usual, pushing the limits on how long they should stay before going their separate ways. Then he'd gone to order a second pastry, and while he waited at the counter, she'd opened a book.

Hermione always had a book on hand.

When he sat down, she was engrossed in her reading, one hand propping the book open and the other stirring her half-empty second cup of tea. He watched with amusement for a few seconds as her hand slowly drew the spoon through the liquid, absently stirring while her mind was somewhere else completely.

Her hand slowed to a stop, the movement arresting as her eyes danced over the page of her book. He remembered chuckling at that point, and he'd stayed to say something, but then a single, innocent thought had flitted through his mind.

_I love her._

She'd started stirring again once she got through that part of her book, but it was too late for him. Everything in his world slammed to a screeching halt, but that spoon continued to slowly move.

Draco frowned at the memory. What had it been? What had sent that innocuous thought through his mind?

More pressing, was it true? Did he love her?

The instant that question formed in his mind, he knew the answer was a resounding yes.

But when had it happened? How had he missed it? One moment, he'd thought they were having a good time, then the next, WHAM. Everything changed.

_He loved her._

Unequivocally.

But it was way too soon, and he wasn't prepared for this. He'd thought, if he entertained the idea at all, that they'd have fun and maybe get to the point where they wanted to discuss a future, but he wasn't in a hurry. Discovering he had feelings for Hermione Granger had been one of the biggest shocks off his life, and when he'd gotten so desperate and pathetic over it that he'd blurted them out at her, the next enormous shock came when she agreed to go on a date with him.

He had never been in a serious relationship before, sticking mainly to casual dates and dalliances because the last thing he wanted was to think about was marriage and his familial duties. His mother mentioned them often enough to drive him spare. He'd once let her try and set him up, back when he'd first come out of his Ministry-mandated confinement, which had consisted of a stint in Azkaban followed by house arrest. He'd been so downtrodden that he hadn't put up a fight, and what followed was the worst eight months of his life—ignoring the span between fifth year and the end of the war, of course. But that stretch of time wasn't really his life; it was his living nightmare.

When Astoria finally put an end to both their misery, they'd shared some laughs and bonded, and now they were very good friends. In fact, he'd met Hermione again at Astoria's wedding to Ron Weasley, and that had led to his feelings exploding on her about six months later.

Only one month ago.

Not nearly enough time to be in love with someone, surely. There had to be rules about these kinds of things. Best practices or the like. It simply couldn't be good form to fall in love in a month.

He wasn't prepared for this. He had no idea what he'd say to his parents. His mother was desperate for him to settle down, it was true, but he was hesitant to assume that Hermione would please her. War heroine status notwithstanding, Draco wasn't sure his mother would tolerate breaking the centuries-old tradition of pureblood marriages.

Draco groaned and slumped in his chair. Why was he even thinking about marriage? He'd realized he loved her all of ten minutes ago; it was probably a bit soon to be worrying about ending two entire family lines. Besides, he had no idea how _she_ felt. He thought it simply impossible that she could feel anywhere near the same at this point.

Draco felt a sudden need to be in the fresh air, so he finished his croissant, downed the last of his tea, and hurried outside. It was a beautiful, cold February day; a thin strip of sunlight peeked between some of the buildings as he walked towards his office. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he should end things with Hermione. It was still really early, and chances were, she wasn't very attached to him. Before her own feelings deepened would be the best time to break it off, and then he could escape the crushing weight of having these feelings for her. Well, not escape, but he could lick his wounds in private while she brushed off whatever feelings she'd formed for him.

At the thought, however, he was struck by a weight in the pit of his stomach almost as intense as what he'd felt when he realized he was in love with her. No, he didn't think it would be especially _easy_ to cut her out of his life, but what if it was the best choice?

Without realizing it, he found himself standing outside the building which housed his father's company. Feeling weary, he trudged inside and onto the lift, pressing the button for his floor.

When he arrived in the lobby, the receptionist jumped up and handed him a stack of mail. "These came for you this morning, Mr. Malfoy."

He took them with a slight nod, feeling lower than he could ever remember feeling. "Thank you. I'll just be in my office."

"Your mother is here. She's waiting for you."

Draco closed his eyes, steeling himself for what was to come. He had no idea why she was there, but usually, conversations with her ended with him having a headache. "I see."

Without another word, he walked quickly to his office, pausing just before opening the door. He took one last, deep breath and pushed the door open.

Narcissa stood by the window, regal in robes of royal blue, peering down over the city. She looked up when she heard him enter and quickly smiled. "Draco, darling. I thought you'd be in already."

"I'm only a few minutes late." He hung up his cloak, trying to find things to do with his hands to avoid having to give his full attention to her. He went to his desk and set the incoming mail down, then went to start a cup of tea. He didn't need it, having just had some with Hermione, but again, it gave him something to do. He was too agitated in his spirit to deal with his mother's pestering right now.

"Oh, I see. You leave the house so early these days, I assumed you'd been coming here." The way she said it let him know that she'd been keeping tabs on him, and she wanted to know what was going on.

"I met Hermione for breakfast this morning. Can I get you some tea?" She would never refuse such hospitality.

"That sounds lovely, thank you." With a smile, she swept across the room to the small sitting area. She moved with such beauty and grace. Draco had always adored his mother and had long believed she was barely mortal, instead an angel or some otherworldly spirit sent just for him. While that illusion had been shattered somewhat, he still believed she was the strongest woman he knew. When he'd learned the truth about what she'd done to help Potter, he hadn't known what to think.

Neither of them spoke while he prepared the tea, which told him that she had come with something very specific to say and wanted his full attention while she said it. Draco forced a weak smile as he handed her the other cup, then set the tray of tea things down so she could add to it as she saw fit.

He took one sip and then set down his cup. "What brings you by, Mother?"

Narcissa smiled genially. "Can't I simply stop by to see my son?"

"You certainly can. This would be a first, however." He gave her a pointed look.

"I see there's no point in beating around the bush." She took another sip and carefully held the cup and saucer in her lap. "I've been hearing things about you and Miss Granger. I know you're seeing her, but what I'm hearing is that it might be more than a passing fancy."

Draco swallowed hard. How could she have possibly known? And why, of all days, did she come to talk about it today? "We've only been dating a month, as you well know."

"It's a month longer than any other relationship you've had since Astoria. I'd like to know where it's going."

He barked a laugh. At least she was making it easy for him to be evasive. "We certainly haven't talked about that. It's only been a month, remember?"

Narcissa studied him carefully, her gaze so penetrating he turned away to avoid it under the pretense of drinking more tea. "Yes, I'm aware. But I've never seen you so happy, and Draco, let me be very clear." She turned her body so she was fully facing him. "I want you to be happy. I'm terribly sorry for what you went through with Astoria, and I pledged then to stay out of your relationships. I have every intention of doing so this time as well. However, considering your upbringing and our past, it would make sense for you to be concerned with how your father and I might react."

"It's crossed my mind a time or two." He finally gave her a smile he meant. "Or perhaps more. But I assure you that we're not serious at this point."

"That's immaterial, really. In fact, it's better that we talk now so you are fully free to follow whatever path your heart takes, rather than act out of fear or defiance in a way that you might later regret." She gave him a sad smile. "Or in a way that causes irreparable harm. I witnessed enough of that in my own family, the way my parents tore our family apart while placing all of the blame squarely on Andy. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't true. Your father agrees with me on this. I've spoken to him at length over the years since Astoria, knowing that you would chart your own path."

She moved slightly closer and reached her hand out to rest it on his arm. "I won't allow our family to be torn apart because of who you love, Draco. I know it's early, but if Miss Granger is the one whom your heart desires, then we will not stand in your way."

His heart was in his throat, and he was taking only very shallow breaths. The thought of his parents allowing a non pureblood union for him was something he'd never foreseen. One of the reasons he'd thought of breaking up with Hermione was to spare her the ordeal of going through the process with him of trying to make his parents understand, and now that obstacle had been completely obliterated.

It was liberating in a way he hadn't anticipated. Clearing his throat, he looked at his mother. "So you're saying, even though we've only been dating a month, that if I wanted to marry Hermione, you'd be okay with that? Father, too?"

Narcissa nodded. "After Andy left, my parents changed. They were never the same again, even though they were the ones who forced her to choose. It broke everybody. Bella became fixated on blood supremacy. I latched on to Lucius, terrified that what had happened with Andy might happen to me if I weren't careful. My parents made it sound like a disease, something you could catch if you weren't careful. Lucius was a safe, albeit an advantageous choice. I loved him, as best I knew how, but I was afraid, too. I will not allow such a thing to come between us."

It was still hard to believe, even hearing it with his own ears. "But... Father?"

Narcissa gave him a strained smile. "Lucius loves me, and you are his pride and joy. As I said, we've talked at length on this matter, and over the years, he has come to see the wisdom in not standing in your way. Of course, we never envisioned Miss Granger would be in the picture, but she is a lovely young woman, bright and sharp and more Slytherin than anyone cares to admit. She is not the woman we would have chosen for you, but that doesn't mean we can't accept her as _your_ choice."

"Mother, I need to hear you say it explicitly." This was extremely important.

"Your father and I will not stand in the way of your choice, no matter her social standing or blood status, Draco."

"It's one thing to not make things difficult. It's another to truly accept it." He stared down into his teacup. "Would Father be able to welcome her into our home? Sit at a table with her over meals? Meet her parents? Treat her as an equal?"

"You've given this a good deal of thought, it would seem." Narcissa peered at him.

He shrugged. "After what I went through with Astoria, I had a lot of questions. I've thought a lot about my future. For a while I was certain I didn't even want to marry, but..."

"Now there's Miss Granger." Narcissa smiled knowingly. "Your father is still in Azkaban for another two years. Should you wish to marry before his release, you will need to go to him and speak with him. You should introduce him to your intended. But I assure you that he will be different than you ever imagined in this regard."

Two years.

"I'd rather that he be there." Draco frowned. "In this hypothetical future we're discussing. Hermione and I haven't even been together for a full month. That milestone falls tomorrow."

"Will you tell her then?"

He cut his gaze sharply to her. "Tell her what?"

"How you feel, of course." She said it matter-of-factly, as though the true depth of his feelings were common knowledge.

"As I have said, Mother, we've only been together a month." It was surely almost time for a meeting or something else that he could use as a reason to get away from this conversation. He stood, going to convey that he was finished. "And, should the need arise, I will follow your advice and speak to Father. I do appreciate you coming to me with this."

Narcissa eyed him with amusement and continued with her tea, slowly sipping as though she had nowhere else she needed to be. She probably didn't.

Draco decided to move on with his day. He went to his desk, sat down, and started opening the mail.

After a few minutes of silence, during which he pretended to be intently focused on his work, Narcissa finally stood. She deposited her tea things on the tray, then carried it to the sideboard, not a care in the world.

Then she gathered her things and approached his desk. "Why don't you invite Miss Granger to dinner one night this week? Any night is fine except Thursday. You can discuss it and let me know what's best."

His heart leapt at the invitation; while it didn't seem like much, it meant a lot to him. "Tomorrow we have plans, but I'll see if we can work something out."

"Good. Send me an owl when you have a date. And Draco."

She paused, and he looked up to find her watching him with affection. "Yes, Mother?"

She brought her hand up to his cheek, smiling in a way he rarely saw from her. "I want you to know that I love you. _We_ love you, your father and I, and we are so very, very proud of the man you are becoming."

He swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. "Thank you, Mother. I... I love you, too."

Something mischievous flashed in her eyes and she patted his cheek once before withdrawing her hand. "There. It wasn't so hard to say those three little words, now was it?" She winked and turned on her heel, leaving him gaping after her.

* * *

He didn't tell Hermione the truth of his feelings for another three months. For a long time, because of their dynamic and history, it felt too heavy to introduce into their surprising corner of happiness, and he didn't want her to feel pressured to return the sentiment if she wasn't there yet.

But every day, he fell a little deeper.

And when the time was finally right, she was the one to say it first.

She thought he would be shocked, but he merely smiled and kissed her, telling her he loved her, too. The ease with which the words tripped from his lips surprised her, and she confessed to being afraid that the balance of their affections was lopsided, with much of the weight on her end.

So, he told her the truth. How one day, when she was merely stirring her tea, he tipped over from being deeply in like to being hopelessly in love. She blushed and wondered at his fortitude to keep it inside for so long when she'd let it burst forth the moment she realized it.

"That's why, of course. If I'd said it then, you'd have panicked. It was too soon." He wrapped his arms around her and locked his hands together. "But now the timing is perfect." He kissed her squarely on the lips. "I love you, Hermione."

Her eyes flashed wild with joy, and she encircled his neck with her arms. "I love you, too, Draco."

Then she kissed him.


End file.
